


Wish You Were Here

by airedis



Category: SHINee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:59:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5043967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airedis/pseuds/airedis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a learning experience</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wish You Were Here

**Author's Note:**

> this story was born from a want to write something and a love of long-haired taemin. (i [really](https://38.media.tumblr.com/04b7931234240e16520472234dd3a19e/tumblr_inline_nur2hfzhIR1r2oxr0_500.gif) [love](https://asianmusicinvasion.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/shinee-sherlock-taemin-3.jpg) long hair taemin ._.) writing this was a completely new experience for me - i had no plot, no plan at all when i started; i just turned on the radio and began writing so the entire thing is shaped by the music that just happened to come on. i created a playlist for it [here](http://8tracks.com/airedis/wish-you-were-here) and, if i may be so presumptuous, i ask that you read calmly and enjoy the music. (should you want to listen, a more complete playlist of all the songs that inspired this fic can be found [here](http://8tracks.com/airedis/wish-you-were-here-full-mix) \- but it is much longer than it will take you to read this haha)

There was a boy.

Sitting atop a crumbling brick wall, long hair streaming behind him in the wind, was this boy smacking on gum as if he hadn’t a single care in the entire world. A dying field sprawled out behind him until it melted into the lumpy, misshapen blobs of muddy brown they called mountains, and the sea crashed about lazily in front of him. If Minho had to say – secretly, of course – he would have said the boy looked like some kind of fallen angel. Or, in any case, his downfall.

It was too hot for jeans but this kid was wearing them anyway, all done up in faded black at that. Minho could hear him popping his gum, sometimes tiny things that cracked like lightning and sometimes big blue bubbles that grew almost as fat as the kid’s head before they deflated. The boy was swinging his legs, the heels of his boots (in this weather of all things) colliding with the dusty bricks as he carelessly swept his hair away from the gum.

Despite the fact that no one else was on the road at the moment besides the two of them, Minho tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. He’d never seen this kid sitting here on the wall but, boy, did he look as if he were right at home. He was pulling the long string of gum back into his mouth as Minho passed, hitching his bag up higher on his shoulder as if to take up less room.

The whole thing would have passed without incident, would have been something Minho – and maybe the boy – would have vaguely contemplated at the end of the day before it was promptly forgotten forever, if the boy hadn’t spoken up.

“Hey.”

Minho faltered, his next step coming down jerkily and grinding into the rocky, uneven dirt path beneath him. He twisted around as naturally as he could, the wind pushing a rush of cool, salty air against his face as he faced the boy.

“Yeah?”

“Do you know what time it is?” The boy’s hair flapped gently around his face and, leaning back casually on his palms, he looked the perfect picture of indifferent ease.

Blinking, Minho checked his watch.

“It’s almost 5:30.”

“Oh, that’s it?” His voice sounded so young – light, almost. It was at odds with the rest of the way he looked, even with the bored, offhand way he seemed to speak. “Alright, thanks.”

“Uh.” Minho shouldered his bag once more. “No problem.”

And, just like before, that would have been it; maybe that night Minho would have wondered about the boy as he lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, maybe he would have wondered why the boy hadn’t just checked the phone that surely had to have been in his pocket. But Minho didn’t get that chance. Instead, as he turned away to start down the path once more, the boy called out again.

“Do you know what time the last tram leaves?”

Minho’s eyes widened. “Oh! Uh…I think it…left already…”

He trailed off as the boy swore quietly. Minho hovered awkwardly in the middle of the dirt road for a few seconds more before he cleared his throat.

“Do you…do you need –?”

“No. No, I’m good,” the kid interrupted. Still, he made no move to shift his position or jump down from the wall.

“Well, see you,” Minho mumbled.

He thought he might have heard the boy chuckle before he popped his gum once more, but it was carried away with the wind before he could be sure.

-

Several days passed without another sign of the boy and he all but faded from Minho’s memory. The wall had been bereft of any mysterious boy, not a heavy black boot or piece of electric blue bubblegum anywhere in sight. It wasn’t until the sun was starting to set in the sky on an uncharacteristically blustery day that Minho heard a sharp snap. He jerked his head up and, sure enough, there was the boy again.

He was dressed lightly, no jacket or long sleeves despite the gusts of harsh wind. But his hair was pulled back messily into a sloppy ponytail, bangs whipping around his face and making him look like that fallen angel Minho had first thought he was. He looked angry and powerful and untouchable.

He looked like a storm-bringer.

Minho meant to pass him by as normal – why shouldn’t he? They didn’t know each other anyway – and he had almost made it when that clear voice rang out.

“Hey. What time is it?”

Minho turned around.

“6:18,” he said, glancing at his watch.

The boy nodded, eyes straying back towards the water. Minho took that as his cue to leave but the boy started speaking again before he could move.

“Do you have any gum?”

Minho knew for a fact that this kid already had gum because he’d heard it and, even so, he could see the boy chewing it right in front of him.

“No,” Minho said slowly, a little confused. “I don’t really chew gum.”

The kid nonchalantly blew a small bubble, wrapped his lips around it, and pulled it back into his mouth. It popped loudly.

“Bummer.”

Really, what Minho should have done was shrugged, turned away, and headed back home. He should have microwaved himself some dinner and eaten it on the couch while he watched soccer or the news or maybe a sitcom, and then he should have taken a shower and headed to bed. There were many things he should have done, but instead what he did was act on impulse.

“What’s your name?” he blurted out.

The kid started at him, surprise overshadowing the seemingly perpetual disinterest that always colored his expression. And then he grinned, slow and dangerous and beautiful, and Minho’s heart hammered away in his chest. He was afraid it was going to crack through his ribs.

“Taemin.”

-

He saw Taemin a lot after that. Maybe knowing his name somehow had the power to call him into existence because as soon as Minho set foot on that dusty, dirt path that followed the brick wall overlooking the ocean there was only thing that popped into his head. Taemin.

It looped in his head, playing on repeat in the background like white noise as other thoughts overshadowed it. But it was always there. The quiet static only died down when Taemin came into view, perched on the faded bricks as if he belonged there – and maybe he did. Minho didn’t know much about him other than his name and his penchant for weather-inappropriate clothing and obnoxiously bright gum. For all he knew, Taemin was meant to be on that wall as sure as Minho was meant to walk that narrow path.

They didn’t speak much other than exchanging a few sentences every time their paths crossed. Minho didn’t really have anywhere to be and, honestly, it didn’t look like Taemin did either. But for some reason their “meetings” were kept short and…well, almost cordial. Taemin always asked for the time and Minho always gave it to him and they passed a few words back and forth before Minho left.

Minho never asked to stay and Taemin never invited him. But Minho wasn’t bothered by it and he expected the other boy wasn’t either.

The weather had evened itself out again, buffeted back to the almost stifling heat that it was supposed to be. It should have been temperate, being next to the sea like they were, but instead it was hot and muggy and on the side of uncomfortable. But it was home.

Taemin was on the wall as Minho approached, legs clad in ripped black jeans and the ever present boots weighing down his feet. His hair was messy and Minho thought he saw a few twigs in it but he kept silent.

“What time is it?” came the familiar question.

Minho didn’t even need to look at his watch anymore. He’d started checking the time before Taemin saw him so that he’d have an answer ready.

“5:57.”

Taemin nodded, lips pursed. There were a few moments of silence and Minho thought that might be it for the day. Sometimes those were the only things they  
said. But Taemin opened his mouth and surprised Minho, as he seemed to have an uncanny habit of doing.

“Why don’t you come sit down?”

Minho’s eyes widened.

“On the wall?”

“Yeah.”

“With you?”

“Yep.”

He fidgeted and Taemin rolled his eyes. He patted the wall next to him, clouds of dust pluming beneath his hand.

“Park it,” he said. His voice left no room for argument.

Hiding a smile, Minho pulled himself up onto the wall. He could feel the gravel pressing into his palms as he twisted around, small bits of brick pebbling the skin. As he brushed his hands together, Taemin grinned at him and then nudged Minho, tipping his head out towards the road. Minho looked up and felt his breath catch in his throat.

The sun was coloring the clouds, blazing a fiery orange behind them and lighting up the sky. Minho had never been on this side of the path, hadn’t really looked out towards the sea when it darkened with the sunset.

He’d never thought to just turn his head and see this every time he walked this path, and Taemin saw it every damn day.

“Oh. Wow,” Minho breathed.

“Right?” Taemin looked pleased with himself, leaning back with a smug grin on his face.

They sat in silence as Minho took in everything before him. He could see now why Taemin sat here on this old brick wall every day. He didn’t know what time Taemin got there or what time he left, but he was pretty sure he knew now why Taemin was there.

“What’s your name, anyway?” Taemin asked, breaking through his thoughts.

Minho turned to look at him, startled.

“I never told you?”

“Nope.” He raised an eyebrow impishly.

And Minho promptly broke into laughter. Taemin waited – not patiently, but he waited until Minho had pulled himself together again before his eyebrow raised once more as if to prompt him, well?

“I’m Minho.”

He smiled, eyes crinkling, and something possessed him to thrust his hand out. Taemin didn’t miss a beat and grasped Minho’s hand, shook it roughly, jovially, and grinned back at him.

And just as easily, he released Minho’s hand and turned back towards the water.

“That’s done, then,” he said. Minho thought he could hear a note of teasing in his voice.

They were quiet again after that, their eyes on the horizon as the sun slowly made its trek into the ocean. But Minho couldn’t help stealing glances at Taemin. He’d seen him from this side before, but never this close, and so he took the opportunity to map out Taemin’s face in his mind as thoroughly as possible. He looked pretty striking, sitting in the dying light of day like this, the sun casting harsh shadows across his skin.

Minho watched Taemin’s jaw tense as he chewed, watched the way his mouth twisted slightly when he tongued the gum over to the other side.

“Something on my face?” Taemin asked suddenly, eyes still out on the horizon.

Caught, Minho held back a guilty flush. Instead, he murmured a quiet no and tugged one of the twigs out of Taemin’s hair gently. He held it between his fingers and Taemin turned towards him, eyeing it thoroughly. Then, a sweet smile crept its way across his face.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Minho mumbled, hunching his shoulders.

-

It became a sort of routine for them after that: Taemin was already sitting on the wall when Minho made his way down the path some time before sunset. Minho would pull himself up beside the other boy and they’d watch the sun scorch an angry hole in the sky until it burnt itself out. Sometimes they’d talk a lot and sometimes they’d talk a little. Once, they never said a word to each other but Taemin had had his shoulder pressed into Minho’s the whole time and Minho had figured that was close enough.

A gust of heavy, warm wind tripped Minho up and he scowled at the clouds for a moment, wiped the sweat from the back of his neck, and wished they would have normal weather for once.

Taemin was listening to music when he approached, headphones snug in his ears, eyes closed languidly as he turned his head towards the sun. He looked so peaceful, even as the heavy storm clouds gathered far in the distance.

He didn’t seem to notice as Minho settled next to him but Minho didn’t mind; he just waited until the sun started dipping to gently tap Taemin’s shoulder so as not to startle him. Taemin’s easy smile made it seem like he’d known Minho had been there the whole time. He bumped his shoulder against Minho’s, headphones draped around his neck, laying innocently against his chest.

Minho’s heart leapt into his throat and started beating so hard it nearly choked him.

“What time do the trams stop running, again?” Taemin asked some time much later, after the stars had already started to peek through the blanket of darkness.

Minho chuckled. “You still don’t remember?”

“Nope.”

He sounded almost proud of the fact.

“At five.”

Taemin looked at him then, dead seriousness plastered across his face. “Well, shit.”

He couldn’t help it – he really couldn’t – and the laughter just poured out of Minho’s mouth, popping in the air around them like Taemin’s gum. And, of course Taemin looked baffled at this sudden onslaught of laughter but Minho couldn’t even pause to tell him that it wasn’t really even funny at all.

When his giggle fit finally subsided, Minho asked Taemin the question he’d been wanting to know since he’d first met the boy.

“What time do you leave here?”

Taemin shrugged, bangs falling across his face.

“Whenever I want,” he said.

“How come you didn’t know what time the trams stop?”

He saw Taemin’s nose twitch. “Because I never managed to catch any of them.”

“Oh.”

There wasn’t really anything else he could say to that.

-

The wind had been revving itself up for several days before it was unleashed on them. Minho pulled his jacket tight around himself as each gust of wind kicked up the dirt on the path, threatening to cloud his eyes. His shirt flapped around his body and Minho clutched his jacket tighter.

Taemin was a blurry shape up on the wall, angry and brilliant like the sound rushing in Minho’s head.

“Aren’t you cold?” He asked Taemin when he’d climbed up next to him. The other boy had no jacket on, just a thin shirt that fluttered around his body incompetently.

Taemin shrugged but Minho could see a smattering of goosebumps raised on his skin.

His brain seemed to decide before Minho even had a chance to think about it; acting on autopilot, Minho shrugged off his jacket and held it around Taemin’s shoulders.

Taemin glanced up, startled.

“Hey, hey,” he protested. “Now you don’t have a jacket.”

“I’m fine,” Minho lied, a smile resting on his lips.

“I can’t take your jacket. Now you’re going to be cold.” His hands clutched at the jacket, seemingly going against his words.

When Minho didn’t say anything, Taemin flapped one of the jacket arms at him.

“Minho,” he said, fixing Minho with a look.

“Taemin.” Minho stared right back and pulled the jacket more snuggly around Taemin in response.

“I’m fine just like this.”

The wind blew as hard as the day he’d learned Taemin’s name.

-

Just as suddenly as the wind had come, it was gone. The weather wasn’t nice – it was never really nice – but at least Minho didn’t feel like he’d be uprooted and thrust into the sky. Or the ocean. Which he sometimes felt anyway just by looking into Taemin’s eyes, but the wind had really just made it worse.

No, the wind was gone, and in its place was the musty, humid heat of an approaching storm.

Despite the heavy heat that made Minho weary and slow, Taemin was even more energetic than usual. He barely waited for Minho to hop up onto the wall before he was jumping down on the other side.

Minho stared at him, as if seeing him for the first time. And it almost was – he’d never seen Taemin anywhere but seated up on the wall, and now here he was, standing in the dying grass below Minho, looking up at Minho expectantly.

“Well?”

“Taemin, I really don’t think you’re supposed to be back there.” Minho tried to cover up his amazement by replying as dryly as he could.

“We’re probably not supposed to be on the wall either,” Taemin said, swaying back with a Cheshire grin. “Live a little.”

Taemin was the kind of boy who didn't break rules per say, but often bent them more than strictly necessary.

He was full of surprises, a little gift box wrapped up nice and neat just waiting to burst. And so Minho could only stare, sitting stock still on the wall as Taemin began to dance. He was kind of swaying, eyes closed as he threw himself into some unheard rhythm, and he moved like he’d never known what walking was, feet moving across the ground as smoothly as if he’d been on air.

Minho wasn’t really sure when he’d moved but his feet hit the ground and he was beside Taemin. He wanted to enter whatever world Taemin was in, lose himself to it, but he was too self-conscious to move. But then Taemin’s eyes were popping open and he was grabbing Minho’s hands playfully, a mischievous smile stretched across his lips.

With Taemin’s guidance, Minho laughed and followed along, their joined hands swinging.

They only stopped when the red started creeping across the sky.

“Shit,” Taemin cursed, turning to stare at the wall.

The ground was a little lower on this side, the wall standing just that much higher. They needed to get over it so they could see the sun.

“Give me a leg up?” he asked, eyes staring straight into Minho.

And who was Minho to refuse?

He boosted Taemin up and, in turn, Taemin grabbed Minho’s hand when Minho made a running jump. Minho’s heart was stuttering around inside his chest and he stubbornly told himself that he needed to work out more if something like a little jump had him out of breath.

Taemin smiled at him, wide and beautiful, and Minho smiled back because there was honestly nothing else he felt like doing more than keeping that smile on Taemin’s face.

It wasn’t until after the sun had disappeared behind the water that he noticed. There were lines of dust embedded in the fabric of Taemin’s black jeans, stubbornly clinging on after a haphazard attempt at brushing them away. Minho’s fingers twitched but he kept his hands at his sides.

It didn’t matter, though; the world was out to suffocate Minho. His hair often got slightly frizzy from the humidity, puffing up from the wet heat until his head could be said to resemble a fluffy cotton ball. And Taemin seemed to notice because his hand was coming up and his fingers combed through it as Minho almost bit his tongue off.

-

Taemin started bending each one of their unspoken, constant rules from that day on.

When Minho walked down the dirt path to the wall, there was no Taemin perched on top. He had a sudden sickening feeling, like he’d taken a sudden drop and his stomach had been lost somewhere along the way. Minho was taken with thoughts of what if Taemin never shows up? What if I never see him again? even as he sat on the wall and waited.

But his worries had been all for naught. Taemin had showed up that day as he had every day before and he did every day after that.

It was always something different: he’d be there early, waiting for Minho on the wall or in the grass or sometimes just on the edge of the cliff overlooking the ocean. Sometimes Minho would get there first and Taemin would show up from his left, and sometimes it was from his right, and once he’d even jumped over the wall farther down and crept up behind Minho. He’d tossed a pebble at his back and laughed when Minho had threatened jumped down to tackle him.

The one rule he never touched, though, was that they always watched the sunset together. No matter where he came from or at what time, Taemin was always there on the wall beside him as the sun started sinking.

-

One day, Taemin was absentmindedly toying with his hair when Minho hopped up beside him. His hair was braided, long and neat and hanging over his shoulder, and Minho thought he looked absolutely beautiful.

“Jonghyun did it,” Taemin explained when Minho asked. His finger twisted around the braid and almost pulled out some of the strands. “He braids his sister’s hair sometimes, so…” He trailed off with a shrug.

Minho reached out a hand and tugged the braid lightly. “I like it.”

Taemin was gorgeous, an excellent little spitfire with his biting sarcasm and perfectly affected indifference. He could shake Minho up without even trying, turn everything in his head upside down until it was all crashing down around him in slow motion. And the thing was, Taemin didn’t even seem to know he was doing any of this to Minho.

He watched a tiny bead of sweat roll down the side of Taemin’s face, nearly expecting it to evaporate before it dripped down his next. But it continued down and Minho pulled his eyes away before they strayed too close to the jutting collarbone just barely peeking out over the collar of Taemin’s loose shirt. It was always loose shirts and tight jeans with Taemin and it was about to drive Minho out of his mind.

In an effort to distract himself, Minho picked at the brick, pulled at tiny pieces until they broke free from the wall. Minho gathered them in a pile beside him and once the pile had grown into a sufficient mini mountain, he began to chuck them as hard as he could past the dirt path, over the cliff, and into the sea.  
He had only dispensed a few pieces when Taemin caught wind of what he was doing.

“Hey,” he started, turning towards Minho. “Do you know how to skip stones?”

“I do,” Minho confessed. He rolled a piece of brick around in his hand. “But I don’t think these will skip. They’re not flat enough.”

“Teach me anyway,” Taemin called as he jumped off of the wall. He waited by the edge of the cliff expectantly and Minho gathered his brick pieces with a small smile.

He handed a piece to Taemin.

“Grip it in your hand like this,” he said as he demonstrated. Taemin’s fingers shifted over the brick until he’d copied Minho’s.

“And then you’re just going to kind of flick your wrist,” he murmured. And then he threw it. Predictably, the craggy piece of brick plopped into the water without a skip in sight.

Minho shrugged and turned to Taemin in time to see the other boy chuck his piece as hard and far as he could. Minho stifled an amused snort but Taemin still caught it. Hands on his hips, he demanded that Minho do better.

“Here. You’re throwing it wrong.”

He handed another piece to Taemin and stood behind him, adjusting his grip and his stance. With a quiet – albeit, shaky – breath, Minho took hold of Taemin’s arm and showed him how he should throw it. Taemin’s back bumped against Minho’s chest, his hair tickling Minho’s cheek.

He stepped back and Taemin threw.

The brick flew into the water and sunk without fanfare.

Minho knew that it was futile to keep trying so he began to throw his pieces into the ocean, trying to get them farther and farther each time. But Taemin was clearly more determined than him and he kept at it, flicking the pieces into the water in the hopes that one of them would skip.

“Here’s the last one,” Minho said, fingers brushing against Taemin’s palm as he handed him the piece.

Taemin got into stance, released a steady breath, and threw the stone.

It flew out, skidded across the top of the water once, twice, and then sank.

Minho and Taemin turned towards each other, faces incredulous and mouths open, until a grin broke out on Taemin’s face. He laughed, bright and loud and lovely. And Minho clenched his hand, the tiny leftover fragments of brick almost cutting into his skin.

Taemin whooped and ran at Minho. His tackling hug almost sent Minho sprawling into the dirt but his laughter blocked everything else out and Minho had to stop himself from wrapping his hands around Taemin’s tiny waist and swinging him around in the air. He wanted to, though, he wanted to so badly.

Instead, he gave Taemin a quick hug and ruffled his hair, messing up the top. His bangs sat fluffily over his eyes but he didn’t seem to notice as he pulled back and smiled at Minho. And then he took another step back and lost his balance as his foot slipped over the edge.

There was a flash of pure terror on Taemin’s face before Minho’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him back with a sharp snap.

Taemin tumbled into him and he latched onto Minho.

They stood there for several minutes, the air heavy and humid around them, and it should have been immensely uncomfortable but Minho couldn’t feel anything but Taemin pressed against him, there on the cliff with him and not somewhere down in the rocks or lost in the ocean. His breath came out in frantic puffs and he concentrated on breathing normally so that he wouldn’t pass out from fear.

With Taemin securely in his arms, Minho tried to will his racing heartbeat to slow. But with Taemin around, his heart was never normal, always beating just a little too fast, and when Taemin buried his face against Minho’s chest, arms squeezing around him tighter, Minho prayed that Taemin couldn’t feel the heavy pounding just beneath his cheek.

When Taemin’s arms stopped shaking, he stepped back.

“Thanks,” he said with a wobbly smile.

Minho held himself back from reaching out and pulling Taemin back against him. Taemin looked so young, so scared – two things that Minho had never seen on him before. Giving into impulse, Minho grabbed Taemin’s hand and the boy squeezed tightly for one long second before he let go.

Turning away from the cliff, Taemin tipped his head questioningly toward the wall. Minho followed obediently and they sat on the wall in silence. The sky filled with color, the sun disappeared, and they continued to sit there in silence as the moon rose and was joined by the stars. The air cooled, some of the heat dipping down and giving way to something lighter.

Everything was so still.

Minho was starting to feel drowsy, the adrenaline having come down and leaving weariness in its place. Then, something bumped his shoulder and he looked down to see Taemin lying against him, head tucked into the slope of Minho’s neck. Minho’s fingers twitched; maybe Taemin had fallen asleep, maybe he didn’t know what he was doing. But then he heard a whispered thanks, so quiet it could have just been the breeze.

He laid his cheek against the top of Taemin’s head and closed his eyes.

-

The angry clouds finally gave up, filling the sky and releasing a torrent of water onto the earth. Minho gripped his umbrella, uncertain. He and Taemin never made plans, but they always both showed up on an unspoken rule. Even so, he wondered if he’d be waiting alone today.

The wall was absent of anyone when he approached, shoes dirty from the now muddy path. The brick was already wet but Minho sat down anyway, cringing as the water seeped into the fabric of his pants. It was still hot, warm rain hitting his shoes and dripping from his umbrella and it all felt disgusting, really. But he waited.

Grey clouds covered the sky but Minho knew what time it was. The sunset would be soon. He was about to give up hope when he saw a lonely figure trudging down the mud filled path. The figure had no umbrella, no jacket, nothing to protect it from the rain pouring down like the end of the world. It could be no one but Taemin.

He was soaking wet when he pulled himself up onto the wall next to Minho. Hurriedly, Minho thrust the umbrella out over him, covering the both of them as Taemin lazily wrung water out of his hair. Taemin gave him a wry grin and Minho wrapped an arm around him to dispel some of the shivering.

“I didn’t know if you’d be here,” Minho admitted after a few minutes.

“Really?” Taemin faced straight ahead and glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “I knew you’d come.”

The sun was nowhere to be seen but they sat and looked out at the sky as if they could still see it. They’d watched it so many times together that they both seemed to know when it “ended” and Taemin shifted, hands rifling through his pockets for something. He pulled out a piece of gum and popped it into his mouth and then his hand was in front of Minho’s face.

“Want one?” he asked around the gum in his mouth.

Minho’s eyes were drawn to his fingernails and the black polish swiped across them.

Forgetting the question, he asked incredulously, “you paint your nails?”

“Sure,” Taemin replied casually. “Don’t you?” He waved the stick of gum in Minho’s face again and Minho took it absently. He flipped it around between his fingers as he stared at Taemin’s nails. He couldn’t stop looking.

“I haven’t,” Minho said finally.

Taemin’s eyes flicked from Minho’s, down to his own hands, and back again. He grinned.

“Jonghyun’s boyfriend does it for me sometimes.” He wiggled his fingers and then shot Minho a peace sign. “I’m really bad at it. It gets everywhere.”

“Oh.” Minho finally tore his eyes away. “Maybe you can do it for me anyway?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Taemin said with a cheeky grin.

Minho vowed to get Taemin to do it someday, just because. It really had nothing to do with wanting Taemin to gently hold his hand the entire time.

-

Minho was practically dead on his feet when he arrived at the wall.

“Hello,” Taemin called cheerfully. “How are you?”

He stilled when he caught sight of Minho’s face.

“Uh…you okay?”

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” Minho confessed. He pulled himself onto the wall, almost collapsing onto it in exhaustion.

Taemin tilted his head inquiringly. “Why?”

Minho just shrugged listlessly instead of answering truthfully. I dreamed of you all night, he thought.

Lately, all of his spare thoughts had gone to Taemin; the static had returned, buzzing in his head incessantly day and night until Minho almost thought he couldn’t take it anymore. He’d mentioned it offhand once and Jinki had just stared at him until Minho realized how weird it all was. In response to his raised eyebrow, Minho had lifted his hands weakly and waved it away. They’d never talked about it again and for that, Minho was glad. He had enough to worry about with Taemin running through his head all day.

“Just try and get to bed early tonight?” Taemin suggested. Then he continued flippantly, “drink some tea or something.”

“Tea?”

Taemin met his eyes and shrugged.

“Yeah. You look like the kind of guy that drinks tea.”

Minho couldn’t help the laughter that spilled out of him.

“What?” Taemin’s voice was as indignant as his expression.

Minho flapped a hand at him, unable to answer. One more look at Taemin, all of his confusion and befuddled, hesitant smile was enough to send Minho into another fit of laughter. It wasn’t even funny, but Taemin had a way of taking over everything in Minho’s head until nothing made sense anymore. He was so tired, his mind thrown into so much chaos recently that it was all he could do to laugh until he started coughing. Taemin thumped him on the back, eyebrows pulled together.

“Okay, okay,” Minho wheezed when he could finally breathe. “I’ll drink some tea tonight.”

“Good.” He leaned back on his hands and regarded Minho critically. “You’re a weird guy, you know that?”

Minho’s face colored and he was flooded with embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Taemin said with a grin. He looked out at the ocean. “I like it.”

Minho had never wanted to kiss Taemin more than he did right then.

Instead, he wrapped an arm around Taemin and pulled him close enough so that he could dig his knuckles into the boy’s hair. He messed it up thoroughly until it was ratty and Taemin’s bangs were sticking up all over the place.

“Thanks, Taeminnie. I like you too.”

“No you don’t, you liar,” Taemin cried, pulling futilely at Minho’s arm.

His feet kicked against the bricks as Minho laughed. He really liked Taemin far too much for his own good.

There hadn’t been a drop of rain since that one day but the clouds looked to be gathering up all they could in the meantime. It was a strange kind of time, caught somewhere in between hot and cold, bright and dark, windy and still. With all of the constant changes, it was like the weather didn’t know how to make up its mind, waking up each day and doing something different. The clouds covered the sun, the wind blew, warm and sticky, and the sea crashed below the cliff.

Minho thought about all of this as he waited for Taemin, but it all played in the background, taking a backseat to the ever present buzz in his head. He rolled a piece of brick against the wall, lightly moving it back and forth in an absentminded manner; his eyes glazed over as he watched the ocean, everything blurring into a sort of blue-grey filmy blanket.

He jumped when something suddenly came into his peripheral, the piece of brick slipping out from under his palm and plummeting to the ground. When he turned to see that it was only Taemin, Minho released a breath, chided himself for daydreaming.

Taemin sat down with a huff, his leg jiggling against the wall restlessly.

“What’s up?” Minho asked, head tilted in concern.

Taemin mumbled something that might have been nothing and broodily whipped his head in the direction of the ocean. Minho’s eyes darted around, unsure of where to look or what exactly to do. He hadn’t known Taemin for long, but even so he’d generally known how react to him. This – well, this was unknown territory.  
The screech of birds filled up the uneasy silence. Minho didn’t know what to do and Taemin wasn’t giving him any help. In fact, Taemin wasn’t doing much of anything, sitting stock still save for his leg bouncing irritably, arms crossed rigidly across his stomach. His face was stony and with the wind rustling his hair, he looked powerful.

And then, out of nowhere, Taemin released an angry shout and sagged in his spot on the wall. A great rustle of birds taking flight sounded from somewhere behind them but Minho’s eyes were wide and focused on Taemin.

He reached a hand out, hovering halfway to Taemin. “Are you okay?”

“Just great,” Taemin said with a large, fake grin across his face. “I just hate everything in my life right now, no big deal.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked hesitantly.

“Nothing much. Everything just sucks.”

Taemin’s voice was breezy and carefree as could be as he threw himself across Minho’s lap, hair messy and clothes wrinkled. But that smile was still stretched across his lips, Minho could see through his bravado and Taemin was shaking.

He threaded his fingers through Taemin’s hair, brushing it out carefully. He had no idea what to say.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” He asked after a while. Taemin’s eyes had slipped closed and he licked his lips, seeming to prepare himself.

“Everyone expects me to know what to do all the time. How am I supposed to do that?” His hands clenched where they lay on his stomach.

“I don’t think you can,” Minho said quietly. “No one can.”

Taemin scoffed.

“That doesn’t stop them from expecting it.” His voice was more bitter than Minho ever imagined it could sound. There was a vice around his chest making it hard to breathe.

As if Taemin commanded the skies themselves, the clouds opened up. It started slow at first but then big, fat raindrops were falling from the sky, hot and uncomfortable. Minho looked around, helpless; he hadn’t thought to bring an umbrella and now he sorely regretted it. They were going to be soaked in only a few minutes and Taemin didn’t seem inclined to move. As Minho watched him, Taemin didn’t look to be bothered in the slightest. To him, it was just another useless thing that had gone wrong, it seemed.

“I don’t know how to deal with all this shit,” Taemin said suddenly, sitting up. Minho’s fingers were snagged against his hair as he pulled away but he didn’t appear to notice. “I can’t be in control of everything, so why the hell do they expect me to be?”

Minho shook his head, troubled. “I don’t know,” was all he could say.

But whatever Minho had to say would have been ineffectual as Taemin picked up steam and ranted all on his own.

“I haven’t fucking seen any of the world, I don’t know anything. How the fuck am I supposed to make any sort of important decision?” He chucked a loose piece of brick past the cliff edge, the force of it nearly making him tumble over the wall.

He turned towards Minho, tumultuous and intangible and so very compelling.

“I’m eighteen,” Taemin said, hands splayed out helplessly in front of him. “I don’t know what I want.”

He had a look of dismay on his face that made him look so young that Minho wanted to wrap the boy up in his arms. And so he did just that, pulled Taemin close to him and shielded him from the rain, from time, from everything outside of the two of them sitting there, drenched in the rain on a brick wall overlooking the ocean.

Taemin let out a sob that sounded like it was wrenched from his throat against his will. He tucked his face against Minho’s neck, wet from the rain and maybe a few tears. It was impossible to tell but Minho was thankful for it; Taemin may have been shaking but Minho didn’t want to see him cry. At least this way he could pretend that the wetness against his skin was just rain and that the small body convulsing in his arms was wracked with shivers instead of sobs.  
He was as helpless as he knew Taemin felt.

Taemin’s arms tightened around him and Minho pulled him closer. He was whispering into Taemin’s ear, saying senseless things to try and get him to calm down. There was no rhyme or reason to the things that flowed from Minho’s mouth, all he wanted to do was get Taemin to stop shaking. He told him how unfair the world was and how hard it was just to live sometimes, he told him that he was just as unsure, he told him that it didn’t matter, none of it mattered, that all they had to do was keep moving forward.

And without his notice, he told Taemin how powerful and beautiful he was and that he could crush the world at his fingertips if he wanted.

The rain hadn’t stopped but it had slowed, a misty drizzle that left the world in a haze. Taemin’s shaking stopped and his nose bumped against the underside of Minho’s jaw. Minho wanted to promise the world to him but he didn’t know how.

“Let’s ride the tram together one day,” Minho said, hugging Taemin to him. It was his last ditch effort. “Okay? We’ll ride it together.”

He didn’t know why he didn’t promise Taemin exactly when they would go.

-

Taemin wasn’t on the wall when Minho showed up. The sky had cleared and there wasn’t a cloud in sight to shield the earth from the disgusting waves of heat that drifted across the ground and hung in the air. But despite the slightly more favorable weather, Taemin was nowhere to be seen. Minho wasn’t fussed; Taemin would show up – he always did. It was just a matter of when.

And where.

When Minho climbed onto the wall, he didn’t know what possessed him to, but he turned around and looked down at the grassy field. There Taemin laid, hair fanned out across the grass like some sort of sublime creature of the earth. He waved cheekily at Minho from his spot on the ground.

Without waiting for an invitation, Minho jumped down to join him. Taemin shielded his eyes from the plume of dirt that erupted beneath Minho’s feet then gestured for him to come lay down. Minho settled himself and stared up at the sky. It was so bright, a wash of blue stretching out above and around him, stoppered only by the top of the wall in front of them. It was like they were cut off from the rest of the world, hidden away in their own little version.

When he turned to grin at Taemin, the other boy was ready, a grin already on his own face as he met Minho’s eyes.

Something seemed to burst inside him, cracking open and hanging in useless pieces inside his chest instead of functioning however it normally should have. It stopped his breath from coming out properly, released it in a soft whoosh of air made Taemin’s bangs flutter and Minho realized he was in more trouble than he’d ever imagined.

Taemin’s hand bumped his for just a split second before he was pointing at the wall.

“I figure,” he started, completely unaware of Minho’s inner breakdown. “That one of these days we’ll probably have to leave this wall.”

Minho shook himself out of it and concentrated on Taemin’s words. “Why?”

“So that we can see each other in other places too.” Taemin turned his head to look at him and Minho’s insides rearranged themselves improperly.

“Oh?” His voice may have gone up an octave or so. He cleared his throat. “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah,” Taemin continued. “If we’re going to get out to ride the tram or see the lights over the city then we can’t really do that from here can we?”

“True –”

“And one of these days I think I’d kind of like to see your room and all, so…” He met Minho’s eyes, an easy smile softening his face. “What do you think?”

There was a lump in Minho’s throat that he almost couldn’t work past. It was with a smile growing on his lips that he said, “that sounds great.”

“Good.” Taemin settled his arms behind his head, the matter closed.

They watched the sunset from there on the ground, neither inclined to crawl up the wall when they were perfectly content right where they were.

It was only after the light started dying in the sky that Taemin rolled over, bits of browning grass stuck to his shirt and woven into his hair, and nearly bounced in excitement.

“Do you want to go down and see the ocean?”

Minho would go anywhere in the world for this boy and so it was without an ounce of unwillingness in his body that he said, “absolutely”.

Taemin’s smile made it all worth it.

There were few things in existence that were as beautiful as Taemin, hair tangled from the wind, pant cuffs soaked in salt water, feet covered in sand, laughing next to Minho, grabbing his hand to run into the water.

When the sky darkened and they could no longer make out the difference between the ground and the water, they collapsed into the sand. Minho could feel it sticking to his clothes, to his wet skin, and knew that he would find it clinging to his hair. At his side, Taemin caught his breath, sand caught on his wet cheek. Minho reached out and brushed it away, breath stuttering in his chest as Taemin’s eyes locked on him. He caught Minho’s hand as he pulled away, kept it lying against his side as he closed his eyes.

Taemin breathed deeply and Minho wanted to lean over and breathe him in, to know that Taemin was rushing around inside of him, sliding through his veins. He rolled onto his side, fingers brushing against Taemin’s ribs as he cradled his head on his arm. It was so dark that Minho almost couldn’t see him, but the stars were blinking on in the sky and soon it would be filled with them.

“I love it out here,” Taemin told him. “It’s so quiet and secluded.”

“Me too.” His fingers traced the lines of Taemin’s shirt, down to the hem. “It’s nice.”

“It’s like another world, sometimes. Where no one else exists.”

“You exist.” Minho’s fingertips pressed lightly into Taemin’s hipbone.

Taemin turned toward him and the motion caused Minho’s fingers to skim across his stomach.

“I do,” he said, looking at Minho. He tilted his head and smiled. “And you do too.”

He moved in closer and Minho had no choice but to pull Taemin to him. The wind picked up just enough to send a chill through their damp clothes. Taemin’s fingers twisted into Minho’s shirt and he sighed happily.

“I wish I could stay out here until morning.”

Minho chuckled. “You should probably sleep in your own bed,” he said reasonably.

“It’s beautiful here in the morning, though,” Taemin insisted. The top of his head bumped against Minho’s chin.

“Is it?” Minho tapped his way down Taemin’s spine, nails brushing against each knob. “I’ve never seen the sunrise here.”

Taemin pulled back and looked at him, infectious smile lighting up his face.

“So why don’t I show you?”

**Author's Note:**

> notes: because this story is so tied into music, there’s two references to song lyrics in here. i thought it might be kind of fun to see if anyone could recognize them! if you can find one of the references, i’ll write you a one shot of your pairing of choice. if you can find both, i’ll write any prompt you give me! :D  
> (as a hint: they were both released in the 1970s! one song references a number and the other includes a greeting/a question)
> 
> good luck and thanks for reading!


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